


The Scarf

by ckerased



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckerased/pseuds/ckerased
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock was nearly strangled to death while at Soo Lin's flat. When, on an occasion a couple of days later, he takes off his scarf, John notices the bruises. Injured!Sherlock. Doctor!John. John/Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes, John Watson or 221B Baker Street. Not in the slightest, in fact.
> 
> Warnings: A little sexuality but nothing too extreme.

Sherlock and John entered 221B Baker Street at approximately 3:30 A.M on Sunday morning. After a long night of wrestling off Chinese gangsters and decoding secret book-codes, all the pair wanted to do was relax.

Sherlock reached the top of the stairs first and brought out his keys, seemingly unlocking and entering the door in one swift movement. He tossed his keys onto the couch and preceded to remove his scarf from around his neck.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed upon seeing his flatmate's neck. The brunette's neck was covered in purple, blue and yellow bruises; the shapes not leaving any room to the imagination as to what had caused them. "When in the hell did that happen, Sherlock?" John walked over to stand in front of the detective while Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I can tell these aren't all recent. These are all at least a few days old." John reached out a hand and lightly ran it over Sherlock's neck.

"It happened while I was in Soo Lin's flat the other day... While I was there, I realized that the killer was still in the flat somewhere." Sherlock cleared his throat, trying to dispel some of the awkwardness he felt from John touching his neck the way he was. "I'm fine. Please don't cause a fuss over this." He turned around and walked away from John and into the kitchen.

"So when you came out of the flat," John continued, following Sherlock into the kitchen, "and your voice was all sick-sounding... that was because the killer had  _ **strangled**_  you?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, John."

"I will be as bloody damn dramatic as I feel necessary, Sherlock! You were  _strangled_. You didn't think that was something worth mentioning?" John looked at his flatmate with an incredulous look. "How can you even... never mind. Please just let me look at the bruises. I want to make sure no excess damage occurred tonight when you were choked  _again._ "

Sherlock turned around to face John and shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, John. I feel fine." He noticed the look on John's face and added, for a final reassurance, "I am one-hundred percent  **fine** , okay?"

John let out an aggravated sigh and replied, "Please, just let me look. I'm your doctor, and even you said that, oh, what was it? Oh right! 'Only a fool argues with his doctor.' Straight from the lips of our very own Sherlock Holmes!"

Sherlock glared at John and let out an over-exaggerated sigh. "Fine. Just hurry up, will you? I would like to start on an experiment with the severed head I recently acquired."

John opened his mouth as if he was going to ask but immediately thought better of it. He simply shook his head and moved toward Sherlock. The doctor reached him and placed his hands on the detective's face in order to maneuver his head to get more light on his neck. Keeping one hand in place, he reached his left hand down to the bruises that were lined across his neck and ran his fingers softly over it. John leaned his head in further to examine the area more closely, staring intently at his patient's neck.

As soon as John had placed his hands onto his face, Sherlock had started feeling anxious. The feather-light touches that John was placing on his neck felt sinfully good to the detective, and he was beginning to worry that he wasn't going to be able to stifle a moan if John didn't finish quickly. When the doctor had leaned forward, Sherlock could feel his breath rolling over his skin, and he literally had to pull his bottom lip into his mouth in order to keep quiet.

' _Oh my Darwin, why did I agree to this?_ ' Sherlock thought to himself while trying to distract his thoughts by mentally reciting Pascal's triangle. He began drifting off into his not-so-John-Watsony thoughts.

A few moments later, while Sherlock was busy zoning out, John broke the silence by whispering into his ear, "You know, these bruises would be healing much better if you would eat properly, Sherlock." Said detective jumped a little bit when John spoke; of course, it didn't help that the doctor's voice was undeniably beautiful when he was whispering. John quickly dropped his hands from Sherlock's neck when he jumped.

Sherlock drew in a very deep breath and replied, "I know. I don't eat while I'm on a case though, John. You know that better than anyone." He turned his head to look at the doctor who was still staring at his neck. This time, though, there was more than just worry in his eyes.

' _I've never seen that look on him before. What is he thinking?'_ Sherlock turned his body so that he was completely facing John, their bodies mere centimeters apart from each other.

"John?" The doctor raised his gaze to Sherlock's eyes slowly, seemingly regretting having to drag his attention away from his neck. No words were spoken as they looked into each others' eyes, everything they were thinking evident on their faces.

John placed his hands back onto Sherlock's face, but this time, he pulled the detective's face toward his instead of maneuvering it away. Sherlock swiftly leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against the doctor's, and his once idle hands relocated to John's hips so he could pull the blonde closer. The detective didn't even try to stifle the moan he let out when John began to snake his hands down his neck, lightly running his fingers over the bruises as he had already done twice before. John grinned into the kiss upon hearing the erotic groans coming from Sherlock's mouth and slightly thrust his pelvis into the detective's.

Sherlock gasped aloud at the contact and began moving John back toward the kitchen counter. When John's back arrived at its destination, Sherlock pulled back and started placing his kisses on John's jaw, slowly making his way toward the doctor's neck. John's eyes closed of their own accord due to the overwhelming sensation of Sherlock's mouth on his cold skin.

Suddenly, Sherlock opened his mouth and started slowly sucking on John's neck. He shifted his hands from John's waist to under his shirt, softly rubbing the cool skin of his stomach and sides, all the while continuing to ravish his neck. John's breathing steadily increased; the pleasure Sherlock's mouth was bringing to him was becoming unbearable.

A few moments later, Sherlock pulled his head back from John's neck and looked down at him. A slight smile was playing at the corners of his mouth as he slowly licked his lips, never once breaking eye contact with his flatmate.

"Now we've both got bruises on our necks, John." Sherlock spoke in a deep, quiet voice.

John grinned impishly and replied, "I haven't got nearly as many bruises as you do, Sherlock. Maybe we should fix that."

Sherlock chuckled deeply and brought his lips down to John's for a lingering kiss. He slowly pulled away and brought his face toward John's ear, kissing it softly before whispering, "I'll let you borrow one of my scarves when we're done, my dear Watson."


End file.
